Revenge is Sweet
by Jennifer Wilson
Summary: A mysterious Master makes the Yardies mad. His method is much like Moriarty, but Moriarty's dead! How could Holmes solve the case now?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own the poor policemen at Scotland Yard. They belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

_Dedicated to ZCR, my best friend

* * *

_"Why am I having a bad feeling about this day?" It seems that we are about to get into trouble." Inspector Bradstreet asked Inspector Lestrade as they stepped inside their offices. They were immediately ambushed by two pies, each hitting them on the face.

"Who did this?" Lestrade roared. A frightened constable went up to him, wiping the last part of the pie thrown on his face.

"We don't know sir. It seems that every bloke on the job has had pie thrown on his face. Yet no one had slipped inside the Yard." He said trembling before the senior inspector. It was going to be the first of many pranks.

Nor the last, either.

* * *

"Well done, Mr. Johnson. You have done well with the pies." the Master complimented the bakery owner. He smiled and left the room. He went to his desk and wrote:

_Day 1_

_It went well. They do not know that it was me. I shall get my revenge on Lestrade first  
_


	2. Inspector Lestrade

Tommy Larkspur was at Scotland Yard. His mission was to pass an envelope to Inspector G. Lestrade. He was a ten year old boy who needed a living badly, and from what he had heard from his friends, the Master pays well.

He gave it to the desk sergeant and told him to put the envelope on the chair of the Inspector. The desk sergeant nodded and did as the boy said, for he was fascinated by the cuteness of the boy.

* * *

Inspector Lestrade was tired. He had been running around London chasing Colonel Woodley. He plopped down onto his chair and heard a soft squelching sound. He stood up and realized that his pants and chair were covered in horse dung. He shouted, "What the devil?" and Inspector Gregson came in. He took one look at Lestrade and laughed out loud. Lestrade was in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

Inspector Gregson, however, was in a cheerful mood the entire day. Since when do you find your rival's chair and pants covered in dung in one day?

* * *

"Hey Tommy, the Master sent you a letter." Tommy's brother Mark told him. He took the message from his friend and glanced over it. It read:

_I have seen your handiwork. You are good. I have a little present for you._

_E.E._

Enclosed was a two pound note. Tom and Mark whooped with joy. They now had food to eat.

_Day 2_

_Inspector Lestrade has fallen. I'm savoring every moment of this. This is good for blackmail._


	3. Inspector Gregson

Constance looked around. Good, the security guard has gone. He slipped inside and looked around. Ah, there was Inspector Gregson's room. He put the mysterious object one of the master's agents had passed to him onto the table. Having done his job, he smiled and slipped out of Scotland Yard.

Inspector Gregson walked into his office. No pies were thrown at his face. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then, he heard a soft hissing sound. He spun around to see a mysterious object emitting a yellow gas. It was a horrible smell. He emerged from the room coughing. To his surprise, Inspector Lestrade was outside. "You have been tricked too?" he asked. Gregson nodded and Lestrade went into the room. He emerged from the room, coughing as well. Neither he nor Gregson was willing to step inside the room for the rest of the day.

* * *

Constance stepped inside his room and saw an envelope waiting for him left. He opened it and glanced over it.

_Good job, Constance. I shall like to give you a present. _

There was a two pounds note enclosed in it. It was more than what he usually got when under Professor Moriarty. The new Master was rich and fair. A new era had begun in the criminal underworld.

_Day 3_

_Inspector Gregson has been hit. Constance has done well. The next shall be Inspector Altheney Jones of "The Sign of Four" I think the spy shall do it as he has been spying for several years.  
_


	4. Inspector Athelney Jones

Inspector Atheley Jones was running as fast as he could after the bogus postman. The postman in question was a spy that was looking through important state papers. He was huffing and puffing by the time he had caught up with the spy.

"Halt in the name of the law!" Inspector Jones said in fine play of the British law. The spy continued running. At a junction nearby, the spy raised his hand, took something from his pocket and threw it down on the floor. The whole area was soon engulfed in a thick white smoke.

When the smoke cleared, the spy had disappeared. In his place, there was a note. It read: Sorry Jones, you lose. The inspector was furious to say the least. It was time they called up an old friend- Sherlock Holmes

* * *

The spy, someone called John, was conversing with one of the Master's agents. He had succeeded in getting the letter to Jones. "Good job John. The Master is pleased. The police now know the greatness of him. Be gone now!" At the wave of his hand, John bowed and left the room. The agent knew that the Master has a personal grudge against Sherlock Holmes. Having him on the case meant that the Master could have his revenge.

_Day 4_

_Sherlock Holmes is definitely going to be called in. Finally, I thought that the police would have an overblown sense of pride. I can have my revenge now. This posing under the alias of Edward Elwood is making me ill. I shall reveal my true identity later. _

A/n: Chapter 4 done. Please review and by the way, this is after Reichenbach, okay?


	5. I Spy Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock Holmes was drumming his fingers impatiently. "Just a case, Watson," he cried. Watson opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by a loud clanging and the loud patter of footsteps on the staircase. Holmes looked surprised. "Lestrade, Gregson and Athelney Jones are working together? That has to be a first for them!"

At that moment, they appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Holmes, pranks and failure has been plaguing the Yard!" Lestrade began "And now, it has been reported in the newspapers!" Jones cried out. He threw a pile of newspapers onto the floor. Holmes picked it up, straightened it and began to read.

_Scotland Yard baffled by pranks_

_This morning, London Times was informed by an anonymous caller that some tricks have been played on Scotland Yard. Our zealous reporter Henry Wells, hearing this fact, went to the police to check it and found it to be undeniably true, Constable Meredith, 'B' Division, Whitehall, informed us about the pies slamming against the faces of every policeman. We sincerely hope that the police would stop playing tricks on each other and start catching the criminals that terrorizes this great city._

"It's in every one of them. Now the prankster knows that Scotland Yard is no nearer to catching him than three days ago!" Gregson exclaimed. "Give me the details." Holmes requested.

* * *

A few minutes later, he was clutching his sides in laughter. Watson could not help giggling, and the three police detectives' faces were red in anger. "Did you just say, that Lestrade had dung on his chair, Gregson had a bomb that produced a bad smell and that a spy had made fun of you while getting away?" Holmes asked again. "If you do not take us seriously, we will not bother you any longer!" Jones replied and turned to the door, but Lestrade and Gregson held him and nodded.

"Thank you Lestrade; I shall go down to Scotland Yard now. This case really is very interesting, you must admit." Holmes walked out of the room after the three inspectors. Watson however, had remained behind. "Holmes, there is someone watching us! Look!" He pointed to a tree near the window of the sitting room. There was a pair of field glasses glinting in the sunlight. A minute later, a man had slipped out of the tree and ran towards the London underground. Holmes tried to catch him but the watcher was too fast for him.

"Who would have money to hire watchers, especially good ones like that?" Watson wondered aloud.

* * *

_Day 5_

_Holmes had been called in, according to my watcher. He has no idea what is he going to face.

* * *

_Jennifer: Yahoo! New record: three chapters in two days!

Tasha: Whatever. -_-

Jennifer: Hey, don't waste the space

Tasha: '! ^_^

Jennifer: ...%#$!* (pummels sister Tasha to the ground)


	6. Author's Note

A/N: Sorry, I'm not updating until I get some reviews. By the way, the whole story has been typed into the computer and so, I'm able to upload two at a time. For this particular story, I need two reviews for these entire story, okay? You can count me being very easy on you compared on Tasha (not her real name), my sister. She had "accidentally" created that conversation while I was at calligraphy! Damn her!


	7. Kidnapping and Hospital

They were in Scotland Yard. Holmes had checked the two inspectors' offices and Jones's note. The tricks played on Lestrade and Gregson were of no interest but Inspector Jones's note had taken Holmes's attention. On the back was a small message. It read:

_Mr. Holmes_

_We meet again. Please be at your family house in Yorkshire. Do not bring police or Watson. _

"Hand writing is particularly stiff as you may notice, Watson. He is a man of habits and some force of character as you may notice by his "A" s. This man obviously knows my relations well, as seen by his knowledge of my family home and you." Holmes told me.

"Your family home," I asked in surprise. We had returned to Baker Street.

"More like a family manor! The Holmes mansion is quite known in Yorkshire. I shall go now to see Shinwell Johnson. Let us see if he knows this person." He walked out of the room.

I was pretty shocked to hear that Holmes had a family home. I dwelled a bit on this new piece of information. If Holmes had a home, why did he move to London in the first place? And why did his brother Mycroft move as well? I found my head spinning and focused on the subject no more. I was asleep by the time Holmes arrived.

"Nothing," Holmes replied to my expectant look. "This person is unknown. He is called _the _Master, a term which had been presented to Professor Moriarty so far. His way of planning appears to be unique. He plans crime for them and in return, they help him to do his dirty work. It looks like I have to keep up with my appointment with the Master." He walked out of the door once more.

During the next few days, Holmes did not appear. Feeling worried, I began to search for him. The Irregulars have been deployed and I was slightly relieved that a group of street Arabs was searching London for my friend. The Yard had also been informed, and even the lowliest constable was on the alert. Finally, I received a telegram from Lestrade.

DR WATSON STOP

CHARING CROSS HOSPITAL RECEIVED NEW PATIENT LYING ON THE DOORWAY STOP DESCRIPTION MATCHES HOLMES STOP AM GOING THERE NOW STOP

LESTRADE STOP

I was glad at this little ray of hope. I called off the Irregulars and set off towards Charing Cross Hospital.

Lestrade was waiting for me. "The person is inside. I thought that you may see him first." He told me. We opened the door and stepped inside. A man was lying on the bed there. It was Holmes. He had not been fed for days and he had been drugged with some sort of anesthetic. There were deep cuts across his chest in the shape of an 'M'.

I asked the nurse in charge what had happened. It seemed that he had been dumped on the front step at noon. They had treated him and had wrapped the wound before he came. There were several bruises and marks of a whip were seen on his back. _The _Master, whoever he may be, had tortured Holmes.

* * *

A/N: I still do not have reviews, but I have to save a little bit of space, don't you think. Sorry if I write this chapter too poorly as I do not know how to write hospital fics.


	8. The Master is revealed!

On the forth day of Holmes's stay in hospital, a girl wanted to see me. I invited her in and asked her what she wanted. To my surprise, she apologized to me.

"I'm sorry for what trouble my sister had caused for you and your friend. You see, my sister, Louise, is _the _Master, as the criminal underworld calls her. My name is Tessa Jacqueline Moriarty."

I stared at her in amazement. "You mean to say…" I started, but she interrupted me.

"That I am related to Professor James Moriarty? Yes, I am afraid so. He is my grandfather. I shall start from the very beginning. A few years after he graduated from the university, he fell in love with our grandmother. They got married and she died giving birth to Edward, my father. Edward was sent to a boarding school for ten years before meeting my mother, who was a writer under the name of Mary Williams. They fell in love, and gained the approval of our grandfather. They were married in 1888, and Louise and I were born at Edinburgh. That day, our grandfather met two twin sisters Tessa Louise and Patricia Lee Robinson. They were master pickpockets, and our grandfather named us after the former.

When I was celebrating my third birthday, we received news of grandfather's death. Louise was the one whom he favored and so wept for three days before pulling herself together for the funeral. Our father, too upset to speak, sent us to Miss Mickey's boarding school for girls. It was terrible, and we made up for the cruelty from our teachers by playing foolproof tricks on them, supported by the entire student population. I could still recall the time when Louise and I replaced the heads of the founders of the school with pig heads from the kitchen. Finally, the principal gave up and a new, nicer teacher took hold of the school.

When the Final Problem was published, she was so mad with anger that she punched through the doors of every room in the summer house. The next few weeks, she was always sitting on the table, drawing out diagrams. Our paper consumption went up very high indeed. Then, she stopped. She had changed from the Louise I had known. She was cunning now, and did not tolerate any forms of law, including the police. When father and mother had died, she deduced that it was a well planned murder and found out the real culprit as a neighbor of ours. I have a newspaper clipping of the accident."

She held out the newspaper clipping. "Tragedy of Edinburgh, Parents killed and police baffled!" was the heading.

"This is the next one," she gave me another newspaper clipping. "Mysterious caller solves the case for Scotland Yard, details inside."

"You can guess who had called. This 25th of January, the pranks started. Louise had started to use the ledger of the criminal contacts she had kept from our grandfather's desk. I tried to stop her, but I couldn't. She was beyond my reach. Then, she decided to kidnap the person responsible for our grandfather's death. You could imagine her satisfaction from whipping him and cutting him while he was drugged with ether. It was all I could do from making sure she doesn't kill him altogether. On the third day, she was sleeping peacefully, due to my making sure that her food was spiked with some wine. I packed my things, sneaked your friend out of the basement, and together with the stable boy, under threats from me I may add, rode out of our house. I took your friend to the nearest station and took the train to Charing Cross. I dumped him on the front step because I was afraid that someone might see me and report it to my sister. She had a good way of finding things.

I was stranded in London and paid for my stay in a hotel at the Strand. By that time, your friend's appearance in the hospital was in the newspapers. At the third day, when there were still no reports of his having woken up, I decided to turn to you, Dr. Watson." She finished speaking and sat staring at me.

I wasted no time in getting her into a cab and rushing to the hospital at once. Holmes had not woken. She told the doctors in charge that he was drugged with ether for two whole days. They were shocked and began trying to wake him up.

* * *

A/N: Will Holmes survive or not? By the way, Chinese New Year is coming up and for five days I will not be able to write the next chapter. For those who are doctors, what chemical is needed to make people awake from ether?

For those who are Chinese, gong xi fa cai, wan shi ru yi! So long!


	9. Accidental Death and an Epilogue

Watson looked up and saw his best friend staring back at him. Tessa had also woken up. She walked towards Holmes and threw a photograph at him. He glanced over it and smiled.

"Ah, of course; I should have guessed." Holmes replied thoughtfully. It was a photograph of the Moriarty family. Professor Moriarty was at the top row staring through his thick glasses. Edward and Emily Moriarty were in the second row, smiling and waving. On the bottom were Tessa and her twin sister Louise. It was taken three months before the Professor's death.

"Uncle Sebastian always comes to our house when we were younger. It was him who took the photograph for us." Then she told Holmes what she had explained to Watson in Baker Street. "So a Moriarty was behind this after all, only a different one. Does your sister know you're missing?" he asked.

"Definitely, I was always the one who likes to stay at home. I'm certain one of her sentinels must have reported my appearance in Baker Street by now. At this moment, she will most probably be planning whether to kill me or not."

"Well Watson, I think I should…" Holmes tried to sit up but found himself tied to the bed. "Watson, why did you do that?" he asked as he struggled against the ropes.

"Louise used poison. There's still some in your system. I had to bind you to the bed as it aggravates your injuries when you move. Goodbye, Mr. Holmes." She tore away from the room with Watson following her.

* * *

"Here it is, Moriarty Manor. Her study is on the fourth floor. We can't use the front door, it'll attract her attention. There's a kitchen door at the back." They had just arrived a few yards away from Tessa's home. She went round the house and entered through a red door. She crept up the stairs silently and reached the fourth floor. She opened the fifth door on the right and both of them saw a woman in there. She looked exactly liked Tessa. It was her twin sister Louise.

"So, you have decided to betray me and join grandfather's enemies, my dear Tessa. Have you not forgotten about your own family?" she spat at Tessa.

"I would rather be a normal plain girl than a criminal's grand daughter." Tessa hissed. Louise had murder in her eyes.

"I wanted to spare you at first, but looks like I have no choice!" At this she pulled out her umbrella and attacked Tessa. The latter had her umbrella out in a moment and the two fought like vicious demons trying to get at each other. They were struggling so furiously that they didn't notice the open window. When Louise was about tow strangle Tessa, both fell out. Tessa landed in the flower beds while Louise fell on the stone path next to it. She was dead when they reached her. The butler called the police and they carried Louise's body out of the house.

* * *

"So, Miss Louise Moriarty followed in her grandfather's footsteps down to their deaths. What would you be doing now that your sister is dead?" Holmes asked Tessa. They were having lunch at 221B Baker Street. It was a day after Holmes had returned and a week since the accident.

"I'm selling the house and giving its proceeds to charity. Then, I will move to Australia for the rest of my life. I can't stand England; there are too many memories. I shall take my leave now, goodbye." She walked out of the room.

* * *

Now, I shall tell you the rest of the story. Tessa married a miner in the gold fields of Australia. Louise's body was buried in Edinburgh Cemetery. Without her, the rest of the society fell apart. The tricks on Scotland Yard were never solved, and the constables liked to joke about when there was a need of a topic of conversation. Usually, they would get scolded by Lestrade, Gregson or Jones for mentioning that embarrasing affair.

Goodbye everyone! See ya till next time!


End file.
